


Walk Home Drunk

by strawberry_justaway



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Cigarettes, Denial of Feelings, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Emotional Constipation, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fighting, GinHiji - Freeform, Intimacy, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smoking, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, alcohol-induced bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22185835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_justaway/pseuds/strawberry_justaway
Summary: Hijikata helps Gintoki get home when he is drunk. It shouldn't go any further than that, but somehow things get complicated. They smoke together late at night and get way too close to something new.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 48
Kudos: 199





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very self-indulgent "alcohol-induced bonding" fic with a lot of descriptions of cigarettes / smoking. 
> 
> There will be four parts in total. Please enjoy the first!

Hijikata flicked off the last of the ash from his finished cigarette. He had finally finished his evening patrol and was heading back to the barracks – Sougo had disappeared long before the end of their shift, and who knew where he was by now. Annoyed at having to carrying the stub with him he started looking around for a bin. Still in uniform, he couldn't exactly litter. Not that he would anyway, he tried to convince himself.

He spotted an oden bar and headed towards it, knowing he would be able to dispose of his stub there.

“Vice-commander,” the stall-keeper greeted, recognizing him. Hijikata nodded in return.

“Got anywhere I could put this?”

“Of course,” replied the stall-keeper, taking the stub from him and disposing of it. “Will you be staying for a drink?”

“No, I had better be heading back,” said Hijikata. His eyes scanned the small oden bar and he realized the lone customer, slumped over the counter, was the Yorozuya. “Is he giving you trouble?” he asked the owner, nodding towards Gintoki. The owner shrugged.

“It's been a slow night, and he's been either mumbling to himself or dozing off for the past hour. He's all right.” He looked pensive. “Though I suppose I'll be closing soon. It would be good to get him moving along...”

“Oi, Yorozuya,” said Hijikata. Gintoki remained unresponsive, forehead on the counter. “Yorozuya,” he tried again, poking him in the ribs. This time, Gintoki groaned. He slowly lifted his head.

“Oh, Mayora. It's you.”

“How drunk are you?”

“Not drunk at all!” cried Gintoki, rising suddenly, wearing a huge grin, and finishing his claim with a hiccough. Hijikata took in his glazed eyes and flushed face.

“You're piss-drunk.”

“No, no! Gin-san just has a little buzz going, that's all....” He could barely stay upright on the barstool.

“Yorozuya....”

“I'm fine!” Gintoki insisted, jumping up off of the stool... and falling flat on his face.

“You're an idiot,” stated Hijikata simply, staring down at him.

“Ow...” whined Gintoki, rubbing his chin and rolling over so he was sitting on the ground. The owner of the oden bar looked between Gintoki and Hijikata helplessly. Hijikata could feel his imploring eyes burning into him. He sighed.

“Fine...” he said to no one in particular, and pushed up his sleeves. He rolled his eyes at the stall-keeper's barely contained glee.

“Thank you, vice-commander!”

“All part of the job, goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” The stall-keeper began happily closing shop.

“Come on,” he said to Gintoki, pulling him up. He ignored his protests and slung Gintoki's arm across his shoulders. Gintoki somewhat consented to being helped and made at least somewhat of an effort to stand upright. Hijikata still found himself grunting from the effort it took to hold him up as they began walking though. Gintoki leaned into his shoulder and Hijikata found that walking with him suddenly felt easier. So the idiot wasn't completely useless after all, huh.

Any fondness he might have been beginning to feel was quickly dispelled by the stupidity the Yorozuya seemed unable to hold back.

“So you don't have anything better to do than babysitting drunkards, huh, Hijikata-kuuuuun?” slurred Gintoki, grinning with a bastard smile that Hijikata just wanted to slap off of his face. It took a lot of self-control on Hijikata's part not to lift Gintoki's arm off of his shoulders and shove him to the ground. Instead, Hijikata grit his teeth and stared straight on.

“Just trying to help out a vulnerable citizen,” he bit out.

“Vulnerable?” echoed Gintoki, outraged, “I'll have you know Gin-san is anything but vulnerable! I've taken down the toughest of amanto! Beaten down the strongest of samurai! I--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hijikata cut him off, “You know your way round a good fight, we've all seen it.”

“Good?” Gintoki echoed again, still outraged, “You mean great! The best!” He wagged his index finger in front of Hijikata's face. “I know I have the excuse of being the protagonist, but, honestly, I'm one of the best!”

“Yeah, sure you are,” agreed Hijikata with no heart, deciding to go along with Gintoki's ego-trip if only to lessen the headache that would inevitably result from all this.

“No, but really – have you _seen_ my biceps?” Gintoki thrust his arm in front of Hijikata's face, using his other hand to pinch his bicep mere inches in front of Hijikata's nose.

“Get that out of my face,” grumbled Hijikata, pushing Gintoki's arm away.

“No, you've gotta see it,” insisted Gintoki, thrusting his arm right back into Hijikata's face.

“Yorozuyaaa...” Hijikata ground out, bringing up his hand to push Gintoki's arm away yet again.

“Yes, good idea!” said Gintoki, grabbing onto Hijikata's hand and squeezing it onto his bicep, “You've gotta _feel_ it!” Hijikata choked a little, shocked by the sudden move. He tried to pull his hand back but Gintoki held it even tighter.

“Well?” he prompted.

“Well what!” cried Hijikata.

“How is it?” asked Gintoki. Hijikata couldn't believe what he was hearing. Nor what he was doing, given that his hand was still squeezing Gintoki's bicep under Gintoki's vice grip. Did the Yorozuya want a fucking review of his biceps? What was he supposed to say?

“It's... fine,” he eventually managed. Of course, Gintoki wasn't satisfied with that.

“Fine? Is that all you can say?” he demanded.

“It's very... uh... firm,” Hijikata added. Gintoki seemed at least somewhat happy, and Hijikata made the most of the loosening of Gintoki's grip to wrench his hand off. “Now, quit horsing around,” he scolded, “And let me take you home.”

“Take me home, eh? How forward of you, Hijikata-kun~” Hijikata wanted to smack himself in the face for setting that one up.

“Shut up,” he told Gintoki, picking up the pace and dragging him along. Not his best comeback, certainly, but it was already getting late enough. He was going to finish taking the Yorozuya home, drop him at the bottom of his stairs, and head off back to the barracks to fall asleep and forget this mess. Thankfully, Gintoki had been calmed down by Hijikata picking up the pace and didn't say anything beyond a few tired grunts.

They turned the corner and Gintoki's home came into view. Just a few yards more, thought Hijikata as he pulled Gintoki along – he had suddenly grown heavier, slumping against Hijikata and letting his knees begin to buckle, slowing them down significantly. Hijikata was about to snap at him to come _on_ , when Gintoki spoke softly.

“You could come up, you know.” Hijikata blinked. His mind was not immediately able to register what he had just heard.

“Uhh...” His long pause prompted Gintoki to continue.

“I mean, I wish I had some alcohol in to offer you, and you're way too sober and... Hell, I don't know.” The despondent sadness that tinted the end of his sentence pinched at Hijikata's heart. Of course even Gintoki would feel lonely sometimes... and given all that he had been through... Fuck, he was going to be dragging the Yorozuya up all those stairs and maybe even tucking him into bed from how soft-hearted the sound of that sorrow was making him.

“Maybe some other time,” he offered. Good Lord, what the hell was wrong with him? At least his words helped Gintoki pick up his pace. Getting him up the stairs was surprisingly easy, his weight distributed between Hijikata and the handrail, and his muscle memory of countless drunk returns home no doubt coming into play. They stopped in front of the front door – all the strength of that in-between space and the limit between two worlds came at Hijikata, hitting him with its full force and making him feel as awkward as possible in his balancing act between the options before him – one of which he was spending far too much time trying not to think about.

Gintoki had let go of him, and was leaning against the railing, watching him. He waited for Hijikata to get out of his own head and look at him.

“Thank you, Mr Policeman,” he said when Hijikata finally met his eyes. Hijikata wanted to brush off the thanks and tell him it was nothing, but the words were caught in his throat.

“I –” Had the Yorozuya ever even thanked him before? Gintoki smiled at Hijikata's fumbling.

“Well, I'm drunk off my arse so I'm going to go home,” he said, pointing at the door right in front of them. “You're welcome to follow me in for a glass of water or to make sure I don't trip over my boots taking them off or whatever.”

Gintoki gave him nothing more than a passing glance before pushing himself off the railing and letting himself in. Hijikata found himself following him. How could Gintoki give him an excuse to come in while simultaneously demonstrating what complete bullshit any such excuse was?

Gintoki took his first boot off with complete ease. He caught Hijikata's eye and pretended to struggle with the second one – making a big show of his histrionic gestures, pretending to need to stick his arms out for balance, and grinning ridiculously throughout. Hijikata watched his show and looked down as he felt his cheeks begin to heat up. He kicked off his own boots, almost struggling despite being entirely sober. He followed Gintoki through into the main living area.

“Be right back,” said Gintoki, stepping into the kitchen. He came back out almost straight away with a carton of strawberry milk and a bottle of sparkling water. “Here.” He tossed the bottle to Hijikata from the door frame. Hijikata caught it easily and studied the bottle curiously, still not at ease with the current situation.

Gintoki let himself fall onto one of the sofas, spreading his limbs out and letting his head fall back. Hijikata found himself sitting down on the opposite sofa, albeit much more slowly and conservatively. He took off his jacket and set it over the back of the sofa. Gintoki sat up and detached the straw from his carton, focusing intently as he pierced the hole and took his first sip.

“Ahh!” he said, satisfied, and seemingly in ecstasy over a mere sip. Hijikata followed his example, screwing off the top from his bottle, slowly raising it to his lips – his eyes didn't leave Gintoki the whole time. He couldn't help but be intrigued by him and, come to mention it, why he was even here in the first place watching the idiot have a nightcap of strawberry milk...

“Can I have one of your cigarettes?” asked Gintoki, interrupting Hijikata's mental formulation of an excuse to leave. Hijikata brought the packet out of his coat pocket, took a cigarette for himself, putting it in his mouth, and reached out, extending the packet to Gintoki. Gintoki took out a cigarette with a smile and once more Hijikata found himself locked in eye contact with him. Wordlessly, and without wavering his gaze, he felt around for his lighter and removed it from his pocket too. Before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning forward and flicking on his lighter's flame for Gintoki, his own cigarette perched unlit between his lips. Impassive as ever, Gintoki leaned in toward the flame, toward Hijikata's hand, keeping eye contact until he reached it. He closed his eyes as he sucked on the cigarette to light it. Hijikata watched silently as Gintoki's cheeks sucked in a little, as his lips stuck out a little, as his eyelashes fluttered a little... He watched still as Gintoki leaned back and exhaled, the thick smoke from his first drag escaping upwards over his upturned head. He watched the muscles in Gintoki's throat relax and his shoulders lose their tension. At the end of his exhale, Gintoki's gaze snapped back to Hijikata, eyes suddenly sharp.

“What about yours?” he asked with a smirk. His voice was dangerously low, gruff, and held a focus he had not seen in him all evening. Hijikata found himself struck dumb; the lighter was still in his hand, rested on his lap, and his cigarette still unlit between his lips – it threatened to fall from his gaping mouth, his entire face only open to the view before him that he had been taking in. He had forgotten himself, and Gintoki, even piss-drunk, had been able to see it.

“I, um,” he coughed, “I'm lighting it now,” he mumbled, shaken out of his trance, desperately looking away from Gintoki, bowing his head and cupping his hand around the flame despite the complete lack of any wind interference inside the apartment.

Gintoki chuckled, and his eyelids looked heavy again, giving his face a look of hazy drunk content as he watched Hijikata and leaned his face into the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on his knee.

“You make me laugh,” he told Hijikata simply, eyes unfocused but clearly on him and taking him all in. Hijikata stayed stuck on his exhale, staring straight ahead and blinking at Gintoki after the smoke from his drag had long since dissipated and his cigarette began consuming itself alone between his fingers. He was entirely too sober for this. In the back of his mind – and if not on the tip of his tongue, then at least wandering around beneath it – there was the response, in a tone filled with fondness, that Gintoki made him laugh too.

But he couldn't move. Time stood still and his face stayed frozen; the words died before even coming close to his lips. They couldn't take form – he wouldn't let them. He wanted to; he wanted to tell Gintoki so many things in that moment, but his desires stayed buried far down in his gut; kept away in the dark, and not allowed to bubble up to his chest and take him over.

And so he stayed stuck like that, eyes wide, mouth open, receiving Gintoki's words but unable to give anything in return. The time had come for him to shape his features into something else, to step out, show his position and brave the risks that came with that – but he found that he couldn't. If only he too had been drunk...

Gintoki was the first to move. He leaned back and took a lengthy drag on his cigarette, looking up at the ceiling. Hijikata briefly fooled himself into thinking he might have been about to say something before Gintoki got up and walked over to his desk, retrieving an ashtray from the draw. The moment had passed but he couldn't give up.

“I – I'm glad to be here.” The words tumbled out of Hijikata's mouth quickly and almost incomprehensibly, but it was enough. Gintoki looked at him as he set the ashtray down on the table and paused. He sat down on the same sofa as Hijikata, next to him. Hijikata watched Gintoki tap away the ash from the tip of his cigarette and did the same. He realized his heart was beating loudly. He hadn't said what he wanted, and he hadn't said everything he could have, but he had said something, and it was enough! It had to be enough...

Gintoki had let his head fall back onto the sofa. He tilted it sideways towards Hijikata, the skin of his cheek squished against the fabric.

“I'm surprised you are,” he said, “but I'm happy too.” His eyes were lazy, but his smile was wide, and Hijikata found himself smiling back. Perhaps it was their proximity that made it easier. And yet he had spent countless hours on a barstool next to Gintoki without ever feeling such ease and openness within himself. The whisper of a deeper feeling rose up like a thin tendril of smoke to somewhere within his ribcage and settled there. It tightened his chest and gave a new significance to the space between them, suddenly even smaller.

“Yorozuya...” Hijikata breathed out, unable to grasp the vastness of what threatened to take them over, and grasping instead at something certain, something well known and habitual. Gintoki's smile waned and, though his eyes remained lazy and heavy-lidded, there was a glint to them.

“You feel it too, don't you?”

Hijikata would have envied his confidence and ease in saying such words if they hadn't been laced with a slur from the evening's sake. Gintoki wasn't necessarily braver than him, just a hell of a lot drunker.

“I-” His words failed him, but his body leaned in. He put his cigarette in the ashtray, propped up against the edge, and turned towards Gintoki. He dropped his arm onto the sofa's back and let his head fall onto it.

They were facing each other, their faces only inches apart. Hijikata could see the rise and fall of Gintoki's breathing and almost feel it whisper against his face. He imagined that it was the same for Gintoki.

“Hello,” said Gintoki. His tone was cheeky, but his smile was perhaps the softest and smallest Hijikata had ever seen on him.

“Nice to meet you,” he replied, with his own shy smile. Gintoki's smile was pulled up into the beginning of a sly smirk by the mischief in his eyes.

“Ah, so you're the famous Oogushi-kun.” Hijikata's eyes sparkled from the heat of provocation.

“That's not my name,” he replied, his tone provoking Gintoki slightly, implicitly setting the terms for their usual back and forth duelling, albeit in a different context.

“OK, then. Toushirou.” And just like that, Gintoki blew apart everything they were in the habit of being constrained to. He had thrown them head first into uncharted waters, and Hijikata had no idea of which way it was to the surface, let alone any knowledge of which direction to travel in. To hear his name spoken so softly, so sincerely, and with Gintoki staring straight into his eyes – both so intently and so easily – Hijikata was drowning in the unknown.

“Gintoki...” the name stumbled through his lips, the syllables unfamiliar in his mouth and coming up from somewhere far deeper within him. They were now close enough that they could definitely feel each other's breath on their lips. Gintoki's face looked good up close. Hijikata found himself drawn in by his honest and open features. From the way Gintoki's eyes moved over him, he was no doubt thinking about his face too. He felt Gintoki's eyes on his lips. It caused him to lick them from the sudden dryness he felt there. Gintoki was leaning in –

His head slumped onto Hijikata's shoulder, squeezed between his chin and the back of the sofa. With one hand, he desperately grabbed at Hijikata's scarf. Hijikata's breath caught in his throat and he released a choked sound. He heard Gintoki groan into his shoulder.

“Hijikata,” he said, lifting his head slightly to make sure his voice could be heard. “You should go home.” His fist tightened around his handful of scarf, bunching it up, before letting go, letting his hand fall and slide down Hijikata's torso despondently. He squeezed Hijikata's thigh gently before leaning away, turning away, breaking away... Hijikata could only stare at him for a moment, acutely feeling the loss of his presence and of whatever had been about to happen.

“Kagura's sleeping,” said Gintoki, hunched down, elbows on his knees, and staring off at nowhere in particular – but certainly not at Hijikata. “And I'm drunk.” He laughed. “I'm so drunk! I have no idea what I'm doing right now...” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Hijikata rearranged his scarf and stood up. He wasn't sure if those words were for his benefit or Gintoki's. He grabbed his jacket, but found himself pausing before lifting it off the back of the sofa.

“Yorozuya...” he said, his body stiff, and his gaze still fixed on his jacket. Gintoki angled his head towards him slightly, but didn't turn to him. A million words sprang to mind and died instantly, each burning up in turn, rejected in their inadequacy, never taking the shape he needed in that moment. He couldn't do it; he didn't know how. “I'll see you round,” he said instead, pulling his jacket off of the sofa and dressing in one swift motion, moving neither his head nor his eyes from their single unfocused spot the whole time.

“See you,” said Gintoki – so quietly, unbearably so – to Hijikata's retreating back as he walked to the front door.

Hijikata slipped his boots back on and tried to ignore the way his heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He tried to ignore everything entirely. What the hell was he even doing here in the first place? He never should have taken off his shoes or jacket. He never should have come up those stairs. Gintoki shouldn't even have been his problems in the first place. He slid the door closed behind him quietly. But Gintoki was his problem, and he had come in, and he had gotten comfortable, and... He shoved his hands in his pockets as he trotted down the stairs, his boots heavy on the wood beneath them. The night felt colder than it had on his way over. He took out a cigarette and lit it quickly. He allowed himself a look back up at Gintoki's apartment on his first exhale, savouring the way the smoke rose up in his throat and then watched as it drifted up away from him – disappearing into something he couldn't reach. He slowly turned away, tearing his eyes away from the invisible dream they were stuck to, and began his walk back to the barracks.

He kicked at a stone on his path. What now? Wait for a next time? Forget it ever happened and bury it away? Frustrated, he bit down into the filter of his cigarette. It was going to end up twisted and soggy the way all his cigarettes did if he let anger and impotence get the better of him. If only he had been drunk enough to accept the change of pace, or not to mind it, at least. If only he had had any excuse to be just that little bit outside of himself – just that little bit of colour outside the lines that could be enough to let him grow into something new.

He flicked the ash from the tip of his cigarette, letting it fall to the ground. It was only then, halfway home, that he even stopped to think about whether he wanted whatever could have happened with Gintoki. He had been so stuck on his being stuck... he hadn't thought about where being unstuck would take him. He felt his face heat up and knew it must be bright red. Hadn't he and Gintoki always shoved their faces that little bit too close to each other? Why did the meaning behind it have to change now?

Overwhelmed, he pushed the questions away. Shoving them down into the seemingly infinite hidden places within himself. Change wasn't in the cards for him, not yet.


	2. Awkward Sober Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension and frustration. Our pair of idiots stare at each other for extended periods of time and fight it out.

Gintoki looked out of the window, chugging strawberry milk from a carton and still in his pyjamas. What better way to start the day when he was hungover? With his free hand, he absent-mindedly scratched at his belly.

“Gin-san, you're not dressed yet!” reproached Shinpachi, having just come in. Not feeling awake enough yet, Gintoki only grunted in his direction.

“Gin-chan has a hangover,” supplied Kagura between two mouthfuls of rice. Without Gintoki to limit her consumption, she was already on her fifth bowl.

“Oi, Kagura, that rice has to last you all week, you know!” warned Shinpachi. Kagura's retort was indecipherable, but Shinpachi certainly felt the wet grains of rice propelled out from her mouth smack his cheek. “Gin-san, you should be teaching her better table manners!”

“She's a monster, there isn't much I can do,” said Gintoki with a shrug.

“What's this doing here?” asked Shinpachi, picking up a near-full open bottle of sparkling water. “It's gone flat,” he added, shaking the bottle around a little. “Don't be so wasteful!”

Gintoki narrowed his eyes. He didn't like sparkling water. They had gotten a crate of it on sale, but he had always found it too prickly for his liking.

“You know I don't drink tsun-tsun water...”

“s'not mine,” Kagura mumbled through her mouthful of rice.

“Then who?” asked Shinpachi, concerned.

Suddenly, among the tight knots in his poor, dehydrated brain, memories of the night before painfully pushed their way through. Shit.

“Oh, wait, I guess that was mine after all!” said Gintoki, laughing nervously and grabbing the bottle from Shinpachi. “Better finish it off now!” he exclaimed, a strange panic evident in the strained pitch of his voice. Before Shinpachi could react, Gintoki began over-enthusiastically chugging from the bottle, his lips pressed tightly around the bottleneck. No way could he tell them this was Hijikata's.... Wait, did that make this an indirect kiss?

Suddenly choking in panic, Gintoki spat out his large mouthful of water, spraying the table, Shinpachi, and Kagura's rice.

“Gross!” cried Kagura.

“Gin-san!” exclaimed Shinpachi.

Gintoki made the most of the confusion to grab the ashtray that, thankfully, Shinpachi hadn't yet paid any attention to.

“Right, right! Disgusting old Gin-san, aren't I? Let me just take care of a few things...” he rushed over to the kitchen, emptying the rest of the water in the sink, and then emptying the ashtray into the trash, watching the stubs of his and Hijikata's cigarettes falling together in a rain of ash, colliding with each other and then dropping into the household waste...

More recollections returned to him forcefully, far more vivid than any memories of a late-night alcohol-induced encounter should have been. He thought back to what he had almost done, to what he had desperately wanted to do in that brief moment... Would he want to do it again? If the opportunity presented itself, would he still want... ? He could barely wrap his head around it. He rinsed out the ashtray and focused intently on the water swirling around its circular base. He could see the new drops from the tap push out the water already in place – each droplet being pushed out in turn and smacking against the edge of the sink, losing its shape by breaking into many more tinier droplets... He tried to imagine Hijikata in front of him. He couldn't reconcile the usual mental image he had of Hijikata with the atmosphere of the night before. The knotted sensations in his chest felt entirely foreign to him and he couldn't find anything to attach them to. He turned the tap off and set the ashtray down. Nothing made any sense and he was wasting water.

Gintoki rubbed his hands over his face, hoping to rub out some of the fatigue. Despite how vivid they were in his mind, the scenes from last night just didn't fit into the broader context of his life. Hijikata wasn't exactly his friend, nor his... anything at all, really. There was no reason for him to remember how Hijikata had looked out blankly into the night, stood outside his front door and looking more uncertain than Gintoki had ever seen him. There was no reason for him to remember a rush of affectation upon seeing Hijikata stumble getting his boots off or fumble with his cigarette. There was no reason for him to replay the way his name sounded form Hijikata's mouth nor the way his face–– Gintoki cut his train of thought off abruptly. The bottle and ashtray were gone, he didn't need to deal with this. He joined Shinpachi and Kagura, ready to start the new day.

***

Gintoki looked up contentedly at the sky. Shinpachi and Kagura were bickering next to him as they made their way over to the park, the most likely place to find the lost cat they had been tasked with retrieving. Now that his head had cleared, the day felt much brighter.

“You're both wrong,” Gintoki told his charges lazily, with no idea as to what they were arguing about.

“Gin-san!”

“But Gin-chaaaan!”

Gintoki smiled as they both whined at him and began spouting off the myriad of reasons why he was wrong. Amidst all the noise they were making he found an appreciation for living his life exactly as it was. Nothing was confusing and there was no reason for him to doubt anything about himself, just as long as things kept going exactly the way they were... He knew he was pushing away an entirely _different_ set of thoughts, but things were just peaceful enough for him to be able to ignore that itching little tingle in the back of his mind.

“Hey, Danna, I see you're taking your pig for a walk,” greeted Sougo as he walked up to them.

“What did you say, you no good sadist!” Kagura predictably rose to the bait, rushing to shout in Sougo's face.

“Honestly, you really should keep beasts like this on a leash,” said Sougo to Gintoki, ignoring Kagura completely.

“On patrol, Souchiro-kun?”

“It's Sougo. And, unfortunately, yes.”

Gintoki should have known what was coming next. Seeing Sougo should have given more than enough time to prepare for it, but of course he wasn't ready when it happened.

“Oi, Sougo, where do you think you're...” Hijikata trailed off as his gaze crossed Gintoki's, “... going....” he finished lamely, not even looking towards Sougo.

Gintoki felt his breath catch in his throat, he could feel all the tension leave his face as he simply stared at Hijikata like a slack-jawed idiot. His face was harsher out on the street under the brightness of the afternoon sun, but Gintoki could still see where the softened edges from a relaxed expression in the half-light of a quiet apartment late at night were supposed to go. And before he knew it, he was mapping them out, fighting the urge to trace over where they should be with his fingers.

The magnetic force that had seized him the night before gripped him once more, this time with a volatile, more desperate strength. Now he could see the two faces at once, and he felt the urgent desire to reach out and pin down at least one or the other...

A million feelings had rushed through him in only a split second – in only the short amount of time where he had been able to forget himself and his surroundings. Everything – the street they were stood on; Sougo, Kagura and Shinpachi; the cat they were supposed to find – everything that made him who he usually was and was supposed to be in that moment came crashing back to him, shaking him from stranger trains of thought, but not shaking him from his frozen staring.

Hijikata was the one to break their stasis by coughing and breaking eye contact.

“Yorozuya,” he greeted, his efforts at neutrality obvious to all in the present company.

“Oogushi-kun,” returned Gintoki, somewhat managing a more normal tone than Hijikata.

“We need to be on our way,” said Hijikata, looking at an indeterminate spot somewhere between Gintoki and Sougo.

“We won't keep you,” said Gintoki, realizing that this was probably the most diplomatic exchange they had ever had. Hijikata nodded and walked off.

Sougo stayed behind, looking at Gintoki quizzically. “Danna, did you --”

“Sougo!” called Hijikata over his shoulder. Sougo shrugged and followed his superior. “You'll have to tell me later, Danna.”

“There's nothing to tell,” Gintoki mumbled under his breath.

“Hey, Gin-chan, what happened to the Mayora? Why was he looking at you like that?”

“Who knows?” said Gintoki, successfully feigning nonchalance. “Either the cigarettes or mayonnaise must have finally gotten to his brain.” His easy answer satisfied Kagura, but he could feel Shinpachi look at him curiously a little while longer. Whatever, he would deal with the hurdles as they came, and ignore any problems for as long as possible.

***

“So, Hijikata-san, what was all that about with Danna?” Hijikata kept his gaze on the road ahead, determined not to look at Sougo's no-doubt sadistic expression. He could just _feel_ the little bastard get excited in anticipation of being able to torture him with whatever information he could get his greedy little hands on. He took a lengthy drag on his cigarette.

“Nothing to tell,” he said after his exhale. Obviously, Sougo doesn't back down after such a simple answer.

“Have you two been caught up with the Yakuza?” asked Sougo. Hijikata barely grunted, ignoring Sougo, and still keeping his gaze on the road ahead.

“Have you gotten caught up in an Amanto drug trade?” Again, Hijikata ignored him.

“Did you get too drunk and puke on each other?”

“Sougoooo...” Hijikata ground out his name with a threat lacing his voice.

“Ah, so something must have happened last night.”

“Drop it, Sougo,” warned Hijikata, inevitably painting a target on himself.

“I didn't know you went out drinking last night, Hijikata-san.”

“I didn't.”

“Really? I didn't see you around the barracks.”

“I came in late. Some of us actually work until the end of our shifts.”

“Did you bump into Danna on the way home?” Hijikata winced. It only lasted a micro-second, but to Sougo's trained eye that was enough to know that he had hit the mark.

“What state did you find Danna in?”

“I didn't see him,” lied Hijikata, but it was too late, Sougo already knew he had him. And now he was like a predator that had gotten its first taste of blood.

“So what state was he in?” Oh, this prey was going down.

“I. Didn't. See. Him.” said Hijikata through tightly gritted teeth.

“I'm sure he was drunk, right?” There was Hijikata's wince again. Sougo pushed on. “Did you drink together?” Hijikata's face stayed stoic – he must not have drunk then....

“Danna was probably in a really sorry state, no?” He saw Hijikata fight the urge to shrug off his statement. Truth _and_ a sensitive spot? Sougo really was on fire today.

“Aw, did you so kindly help him out when he was down?”

“Just drop it, Sougo! Shut up!” Hijikata shouted at him and stormed off, leaving Sougo stunned. Usually his superior would put up with teasing for much longer and reprimand him for being unprofessional. This time, he seemed to have hit a far more sensitive nerve than usual... Sougo smiled and followed after Hijikata. There was something _very_ juicy going on here.

***

Gintoki sat on the park bench with his arms spread out across the back. He lazily looked around at his surroundings, taking note of the birds pecking at the ground and children playing further away. Kagura, Shinpachi and himself had split up to cover more ground so, naturally, he was avoiding doing any actual work. Let the younger generation tire themselves out for once!

His happy, contemplative silence was cut short by Sougo.

“Oi, Danna,” he called, “Looking for this?” He held a grey cat in his arms. Sougo scratched its head and the cat purred contentedly as it nuzzled against his hand.

“Gimme!” said Gintoki, rising from the bench. Sougo drew the cat closer to himself.

“Not until you give me what I want in exchange.”

“Name your price.” Sougo smirked.

“Tell me what happened last night with Hijikata.” Gintoki turned completely pale. Shit. Anything but that. The one thing he desperately wanted to avoid thinking about today... It was hard enough to handle the memories constantly trying to push their way to the forefront of his mind, let alone talk about them in any way that could make sense... and leave out vital information he definitely did not want to give to this super sadist.

“Nothing happened...” he tried. Sougo narrowed his eyes at him.

“Really, Danna, I'm disappointed. I thought we were friends.” Gintoki looked at him strangely, friends who blackmailed each other? Sougo sighed. “Do you want this or not?” he asked, bouncing the cat in his arms.

Gintoki ran his hand through his hair. “I wouldn't really know what to tell you anyway. I don't really remember...”

“Oh?” Sougo's interest was piqued. Gintoki rubbed his hand around, making his hair even messier than usual.

“He... uh... helped me home. I was drunk and, uh... I don't really know...” he trailed off, looking away from Sougo.

“So did you puke on him?”

“What! No! At least, I don't think so...”

“Well, you must have done _something_ to him.” Gintoki's cheeks reddened. Why did that sound so wrong?

“I didn't _do_ anything to him!” he fervently denied. Sougo laughed. Danna was just like Hijikata: if you riled them up enough, they gave everything away.

“You sure sound like the guilty party to me, Danna.”

“No, no! You've got it all wrong! Gin-san is innocent here! Nothing happened!” He cut himself off, realizing he was playing right into Sougo's hand. “Look, just drop it you little shit. And give me the damn feline while you're at it.” He extended his arms for Sougo to give him the cat.

“Gin-chan!” called Kagura, running towards them. “Did you find it?” As she approached them, she realized Sougo was holding the cat. “Why did you give it to _him_?”

“Souchirou-kun was just handing the kitty over,” he told her. “Wasn't he?” he added, looking pointedly at Sougo. Sougo glared at him.

“It's Sougo. And I will find out, Danna,” he threatened, briskly thrusting the cat into Gintoki's arms. The roughness panicked the cat who began to claw at Gintoki's face.

“Ahh! Get it off me!” cried Gintoki. Kagura tried to grab the cat.

“You're on your own, Danna,” said Sougo as he walked away and raised his hand in farewell.

“Damned little bastard...” grumbled Gintoki as Kagura finally managed to pull the cat off of him.

***

They found Shinpachi and began to make their way out of the park and back to the cat owner's house. Thankfully, it seemed to have taken a liking to Kagura and was dozing off in her arms. Gintoki had charged Shinpachi with keeping a tight watch that she wasn't tempted to hug it too hard.

Gintoki realized Hijikata was walking down the path, approaching from the opposite direction. There was no different path for them to take without obviously coming across as avoiding him. From the stiffness in Hijikata's silhouette, Gintoki realized he must have come to the same conclusion.

“Oi, Mayora!” called Kagura, “If you're looking for the sadist, he's back there somewhere.” Her hands full with the cat, she gestured the direction they had come from with a nod of her head.

“Right,” he acquiesced, stopping in front of them and standing awkwardly.

“Is everything all right, Hijikata-san?” asked Shinpachi. Hijikata heard the polite tone and could see the sincere concern in the boy's eyes. He desperately tried to avoid looking at Gintoki.

“All fine. Thanks.” He did his best to offer a reassuring smile, supposing he must really look forlorn if Shinpachi was asking. It was difficult to put up a reassuring front, however, when he could feel Gintoki's eyes burning into the side of his face. He made the fatal mistake of turning to meet that gaze. Once more his breath caught in his throat and he was incapable of thinking clearly. This really was getting ridiculous. He had to put a stop to this.

“Stop staring at me, Yorozuya.”

“Me?” cried Gintoki, outraged. “You're the one who keeps staring at Gin-san's beautiful face!” Hijikata clenched his teeth.

“I don't want to hear it, moron.”

“That's rich, coming from you, you bastard!”

Sougo emerged from the trees to the side of the path. “Ah, looks like I got here just in time!” he said, the glee all too clear in his voice.

“You stay out of this!” said Gintoki and Hijikata, snapping around to shout at him. In a mere second, though, they were facing each other again, aggressively leaning into each other's space, foreheads only inches apart.

“Don't you idiot policemen have some actual crimes to solve? Instead of strolling through the park all day?”

“Says the guy whose job was literally strolling around the park today!”

“We're helping a poor old senior citizen here!” said Gintoki, poking Hijikata in the chest, “That's more than you'll ever do!”

“We're protecting the whole damn city!” cried Hijikata, grabbing Gintoki by the collar.

“And a shit job you're doing too!” replied Gintoki, also grabbing Hijikata's collar.

“You ungrateful dickhead!” In his anger, Hijikata thrust forward enough to hit their foreheads together. It had happened to them a million times, but this time, the contact sent an electric shock through him that made his eyes flick down to Gintoki's lips. Gintoki's eyes followed his and as they looked back up they were locked into each other's gazes once more. This wasn't how this was supposed to go!

They violently pushed back against each other, both sending the other tumbling a few steps back.

“D-don't let me see you around here again, Yorozuya!” said Hijikata, struggling to shape his voice into an appropriate tone and furiously hoping no one would notice the panic on his face.

“I'm on my way off, a-anyway!” replied Gintoki, facing the same problem. They stormed off in opposite directions, leaving Sougo, Kagura, and Shinpachi to stare at each other quizzically. Kagura and Shinpachi quickly jogged after Gintoki, and Sougo watched them leave before shoving his hands into his pockets and following after his superior. Oh, he was going to have so much fun...

  
***

A few hours later, Hijikata realized fate must have it in for him. He was no longer surprised when he and Gintoki bumped into each other on his days off, but for him to walk in here, of all places, and now, of all times...

He had just picked up his chopsticks to dig into his Hijikata special, looking forward to ignoring all his problems in favour of the perfect taste of mayonnaise, but – of course – this idiot had to walk in and sit next to him like nothing was wrong.

“The usual?” asked the old man's widow from behind the bar.

“Please,” replied Gintoki. He still hadn't so much as looked at Hijikata. Hijikata could feel a heaviness in his chest, it was growing and threatened to take him over. He couldn't let it.

“Oi, bastard,” called Hijikata, putting down his chopsticks, happy that it made Gintoki _finally_ turn to look at him.

“Yeah?” They stayed stuck for a moment, staring at each other.

“That's all you have to say?” demanded Hijikata. Gintoki shrugged, and the stiffness of the gesture showed that his nonchalance was at least somewhat feigned.

“It's a start, isn't it? How have you been?” Hijikata couldn't help but frown at the question. Who the hell did this bastard think he was putting him through all this? Sougo's interrogations had lasted all afternoon and put him in a terrible mood. He had decided it was all Gintoki's fault.

“Fine. No thanks to you.”

“Oi! What's that supposed to mean?” Gintoki was worried, but annoyance won out and coloured his tone.

“Why did you even come sit next to me?” demanded Hijikata.

“You really think we have nothing to talk about?” asked Gintoki. Hijikata swore under his breath. “Right, because it'll be so much better for us to stare at each other like a pair of deer caught in the headlights whenever we see each other,” added Gintoki, full of sarcasm.

“Here's your usual,” said the widow, placing the bowl in front of Gintoki, and obliviously cutting through the tension. “Enjoy!” Gintoki thanked her and took his chopsticks. Hijikata picked his own back up, and for a while they both ate in silence. As he ate his meal, Hijikata felt most of his anger leave his body. It had been a long day, and it wasn't _all_ Gintoki's fault. Even if he was the root cause of all his troubles. Their elbows touched, barely a nudge, but it sent heat surging up through Hijikata's arm. The warmth pooled around his heart and engulfed his chest. He swallowed his current mouthful with some difficulty.

“Yorozuya...” his voice cracked a little. Gintoki turned to look at him lazily, and if Hijikata hadn't been caught up in the rush of sensations piercing through his own body, he would have seen the small tug at the corner of Gintoki's mouth, he would have noticed the too-rapid too-frequent blinking – all the signs that Gintoki was just as shaken as he was.

“Thank you.” Gintoki's voice came out as a hoarse whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Thank you for, uh, helping me home last night.”

It took Hijikata a moment to realize what Gintoki was talking about. Of all the events of last night, the actual walking together had probably taken the longest, and yet Hijikata's mind was entirely focused on what was probably the shortest, those few tiny seconds where –

“It's nothing.” Hijikata couldn't hold his gaze, and turned back to his rice.

“Hijikata–“ Gintoki reached out and grabbed onto Hijikata's sleeve. Hijikata's head snapped up to meet his gaze. It was no longer lazy at all. Hijikata didn't think he had ever seen Gintoki's eyes open so wide. Gintoki stared at him helplessly with parted lips. Whatever words he had wanted to say had stayed stuck in his throat – if they had ever even made it that far at all. Once more, Hijikata felt trapped in Gintoki's stare and couldn't look away. He couldn't even bring himself to move.

Gintoki's lips moved, but still no sound came out. He looked at Hijikata helplessly, and Hijikata saw so much of him just in that moment. In the open vulnerability of his face, Hijikata saw a thousand of Gintoki's faces from his memories flit across Gintoki's features. Amidst the rapid succession he could see one expression in particular, something brand new and that he had never associated with Gintoki before. The hand on his sleeve tugged and he saw the expression take over Gintoki's face: fear.

The fear in Gintoki's face didn't present itself to him alone; it came accompanied by something else too. Gintoki's face was usually carefully guarded behind indifference. When Hijikata did get emotions out if him, it would be annoyance and anger – Gintoki would be brazenly pushing himself into Hijikata's face, sharp words and furrowed brow. But now... Now, Gintoki needed something from him. His face lost its definition, all his edges blurred and waiting for something to help them take shape. That something was Hijikata's to give. Gintoki was falling and right now he was supposed to be the one to catch him, to give him something to put into that gap he had bravely created just for him–

Hijikata looked away, hunching over. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He thought his heart might explode out of his throat. In his lap, his hands clung to the fabric of his trousers, bunching up as much of it as he could. He found that he was breathing heavily. He forced himself into a more natural rhythm and finally looked back up.

Gintoki had resumed eating, and was giving his meal his full attention. He looked over to Hijikata with a calm, neutral expression, one that would have fooled Hijikata in the past, but now he had seen too much and could easily discern the pain haunting the corners of his eyes. Hijikata wasn't sure which was worse: being privy to that pain or knowing it was his fault. Either way, he couldn't take it. He dug into his pocket and slapped a handful of notes onto the counter – more than enough to cover both of their meals. He darted out of the restaurant before Gintoki could even put down his chopsticks.

Once out on the street, Hijikata made a sharp turn around the side of the building. He let himself fall back against the wall and lowered his face into his hands. What was happening to him? He was a coward. He couldn't speak. He couldn't act. What was he good for?

He felt the air shift in front of him and looked up. He saw Gintoki's face mere inches from his own. He had silently approached him and leaned down in front of him, one hand by Hijikata's head, steadying himself against the wall. Hijikata was startled but made no effort to move. He was exhausted by this... this whatever it was that they were doing. He leaned further back against the wall, letting this head drop against the wood panelling. A small sharp, unbelieving laugh slipped through his lips as he looked at Gintoki. Gintoki was momentarily confused, but smiled in response.

For the first time that day, they were able to look at each other without panicking. Hijikata just couldn't bring himself to care any more. Apparently there was something for him to see in Gintoki's face, so why not just take his damn time and look at it? He felt the tension leave his body and let himself be absorbed in examining Gintoki's face. He could see the idiot he was used to, the fighter who had revealed himself on occasion, and the gentleness from the night before. All the conflicting qualities rushed together and finally seemed to stabilize in Gintoki's calm, honest expression. Hijikata could feel himself placed under the same scrutiny. This was the most complete picture of Gintoki he had ever seen, and there was something more there too, something beyond the fear from earlier – something slowly taking form and seeking him out. Hijikata could see Gintoki's jaw relax and his lips begin to part, but there was a sharpness in his eyes as he focused on Hijikata. Gintoki had chosen to let go to, but it had led him to find something in himself, something that was _very_ much concerned with Hijikata.

Gintoki reached forward to brush some hair out of Hijikata's face. His hand lingered against the side of Hijikata's forehead. Hijikata found himself leaning his chin up before he knew what he was doing. Gintoki began to lean down to meet him.

...

On pure reflex, Hijikata punched Gintoki in the face.

“What the fuck! You asshole!” cried Gintoki, rubbing his jaw. Hijikata stared at him, stunned by what he had just done. When Gintoki hit him back, part of him knew he deserved it, but another – stronger – part of him couldn't back down from any form of fight and slammed Gintoki against the wall. Gintoki grabbed at his shoulders and pushed him off, sending him tumbling backwards. Hijikata grabbed onto Gintoki's yukata and brought him down with him. He tried to spin them around, so Gintoki would land underneath him, but Gintoki fought back and they both landed onto a pile of trash bags on their sides and still clinging to each other. Gintoki tried to struggle out of Hijikata's grip, crashing into a pile of cardboard boxes and sending them tumbling. Hijikata tried to stand up and pry Gintoki's hands off of his shoulders and only succeeded in sending the both of them falling back to the ground, tangled up in each other and brawling sloppily, stupidly. Gintoki tried to shove Hijikata to one side, but missed his shoulder, allowing Hijikata to swerve and pin him down.

Out of breath, Hijikata paused and looked down at Gintoki. The bastard was looking back up at him with his carefully neutral dead-eyed expression. They were both panting and Hijikata realized he was straddling Gintoki with his legs spread out. If he were to lean down, even just a little, and angle his hips … He wasn't sure if it was him who had acted out his thought or if it was Gintoki who had completed it for him, but one or both of them had closed the gap and caused their crotches to rub together. Gintoki gasped, and all the anger was gone from his face. He looked up at Hijikata, filled with hope.

“Hijikata–”

Hijikata pushed himself up off of Gintoki, looking away and blushing furiously.

“I have to go!” he cried, tripping over himself as he ran out of the alley.

Gintoki, still on the ground, propped himself up on his elbows, and watched him leave. He felt confused and disappointed but, as Hijikata disappeared, he smiled. He could have done without being hit in the face, but _something_ was definitely going on there...


	3. Another Drunk Walk Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to a ridiculous amount of alcohol, the tensions and frustrations of the last chapter are somewhat resolved... but of course that brings about its own problems.

“Rock, paper, scissors, strip!”

“No!” screamed Kondo. Having already taken off his socks, he was going to have to cede either his shirt or his pants. 

“Hurry up, Kondo-san,” prompted Sougo, who was observing the game.

“Wait! My belt! My belt!”

Hijikata sighed and took another swig of his sake. He felt nowhere near drunk enough to tolerate this situation. The first division and primary taskforce were celebrating stopping a major Jouishishi plot they had been working on tirelessly for months... Well, 'stopping' was perhaps a bit strong. Helping avert the plot might be more accurate. Yamazaki had been in the right café at the right time. Namely, the café where Katsura had jotted down the date and time of a major weapons shipment on a napkin and then carelessly left it behind on the table, a couple of seats away from where Yamazaki had been on his break.

Kondo had finished removing his belt and one of the officers had given it to Yamazaki to wear as a sort of crown.

“Three cheers for our main man!” cried the officer, leading to yet another round of cheers. Yamazaki, embarrassed, tried to quell the cheers, but didn't make any correction.

Hijikata poured himself yet another drink. He had suspected the breakthrough had had more to do with Katsura's airhead status and Yamazaki's blind luck than any noteworthy detective work. He had easily managed to get the truth out of Yamazaki, who had broken down crying, but he had decided against telling anyone else the truth. The men were happy. Morale was high. It had been a tiring time all round and he knew it was better to let them blow off steam now if he wanted any chance at efficiency from them in the coming weeks.

It didn't mean he had to be sober when putting up with their bullshit, though.

He watched impassively as yet another officer removed his shirt to the howls and whistles of the group. They certainly were a rowdy bunch. Thankfully, they had a private room to themselves in a restaurant where the owner was partial to the Shinsengumi. Hijikata felt his shoulders tense up at the memory of the countless bars and restaurants in Edo where he had had to apologize for how out-of-hand some of their celebrations had gotten. Maybe another drink would do the trick.

He could already feel the tense coils in his muscles unwind as he poured the liquid into his glass. He watched the alcohol swirl around as it hit the bottom of the glass, flowing outwards and pushing up before the small glass was filled.

He closed his eyes as he brought the glass to his lips. When it made contact, he heard the rowdy officers clamour as Takeda lost the next round of Rock, paper, scissors, strip, dooming his team and giving Kondo's team a fighting chance at staying somewhat clothed. Hijikata happily let the noise and the alcohol wash over him and dull his senses. If he couldn't get lost in his work, he would get lost in whatever numbness or dulling of his edges he could afford. He had been feeling a few things far too acutely these past few days... The memory from the alley two days prior hit him with a sudden sharpness: the metallic tang he had felt in his nose as he was hit with a sudden dizziness, the heat building in his abdomen, the emotion that had taken hold of Gintoki's face and spread out across his features...

He necked his near-full drink and slammed the glass on the table with more force than necessary, causing one of the officers whose head was slumped on the table to look up at him vaguely. Hijikata ignored him and poured himself another drink. It seemed those edges weren't yet quite dull enough. All he wanted was to just not think about –

“Gintoki!” cried Kondo, happily. Hijikata spun around to face the door. Kondo was bouncing over to where Gintoki was standing in the hallway with Hasegawa.

“You guys celebrating something?” asked Gintoki, poking his head in through the door. Hijikata saw the corner of his mouth rise as he took in the assorted Shinsengumi officers in various states of undress and intoxication.

“End of a big operation,” confirmed Kondo, nodding. “You should join us!” he suggested enthusiastically.

“I wouldn't want to impose...” said Gintoki, glancing at Hijikata out of the corner of his eye. Hijikata stared into his glass and pretended he hadn't seen him – which was entirely ridiculous, because he was still halfway turned towards him and not so discretely also trying to look at Gintoki's reaction himself.

“Oi, Gin-san,” hissed Hasegawa, nudging Gintoki in the sides and nodding towards all the food and booze still on the table. Hijikata tensed up, tightening his grip on his glass – something that Sougo's hawk eyes were all too keen to pick up on. He smirked.

“Come on, Danna!” he called, walking over to the doorway, “I absolutely insist!” he exclaimed in a saccharine tone, grabbing Gintoki by the sleeve and pulling him over the threshold.

“Ah, well, if you insist...” said Gintoki, stepping into the room. His gaze was firmly on Hijikata, looking for any hint of what he might be thinking.

“That's the spirit, Gintoki!” said Kondo, giving him a friendly pat on the back. Though, of course, because Kondo was quite drunk, the pat was rather firm. And because Gintoki was quite distracted, his movements were rather clumsy... Gintoki groaned as he hit the floor chin first. The physical pain was minimal compared to the shame he felt at losing his footing on a smooth wooden floor.

“Gin-san!” called Hasegawa, moving to pull Gintoki up. He and Kondo lifted him, taking an arm each.

“Sorry about that...” apologized Kondo, “Let's get you a drink.” Hijikata held back his laughter and looked away before anyone could see the affectionate smile on his face. What a dork! The ridiculousness of a battle-worn samurai tripping over his own socks relaxed him more than any alcohol ever could. Maybe they would manage to actually have a conversation tonight about... whatever it was that they had to figure out between them.

Gintoki and Hasegawa had found some open seats at the other end of the long table. Hijikata resumed his quiet drinking, concerned only with veiling his frequent glances at Gintoki and pretending to have been staring vaguely at some indeterminate spot beyond him whenever Gintoki turned to look back at him (which was often).

“Kamiyama's down!” came a shout from the Rock, paper, scissors, strip corner.

“Toshi! Will you stand in for him?” asked Kondo, now shirtless. Hijikata sighed and shook his head to say no, causing Kondo to beg. “Toshi! Please!”

“Madao wants to play!” called Gintoki from the other end of the table.

“I what now?” asked Hasegawa, putting down his chopsticks.

“Hasegawa-san, of course you can join us!” cried Kondo happily, whisking him away. Gintoki got up too and came to sit in the empty seat across from Hijikata. Hijikata felt his heart rate pick up as he say down.

“Hi,” offered Gintoki.

“Hey,” replied Hijikata, surprised at the gruffness of his voice. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

Gintoki stared at him for a moment, lips parted, about to speak –

“Yo, Danna, it's been a while,” said Sougo, squeezing in next to Gintoki. He spoke to Gintoki, but his eyes were fully on Hijikata, sparkling with a sadistic glint.

“I saw you at the dango stand this afternoon,” countered Gintoki.

“So that's where you were...” grumbled Hijikata, letting his annoyance show clearly. Sougo ignored him.

“Can I get you another drink, Danna?”

“Sure.” Sougo took his glass and filled it anew.

“How about a little game?” he asked as he passed back the glass.

“Why not?”

“Hijikata-san, give me a coin.”

“What do you want a coin for?”

“Don't you even have a single coin in your pockets? What have you been spending all of your salary on? Tomoe-chan DVDs?”

“Take your damn coin!” cried Hijikata, slamming a 100 yen coin on the table.

“Why thank you, Hijikata-san.” Sougo took the coin happily and grabbed four empty sake cups from further down the table. He placed the coin under one of them and began shifting them around.

“OK, find the coin, Danna. Your pauper's nose can no doubt sniff it out.”

“Oi, shut up, you brat. And it's clearly under that one.” Sougo lifted up the designated cup, revealing the coin wasn't there.

“Drink up, Danna.”

“Fair enough,” acknowledged Gintoki, downing his drink.

“Your turn, Hijikata-san,” said Sougo. Hijikata was glaring daggers at him. “Hijikata-san,” prompted Sougo.

“I'm not playing.”

“Come on, don't be such a stick in the mud.”

“You could stand to lighten up a bit, Oogushi-kun,” added Gintoki playfully. Hijikata flinched. Was he really that boring? He really thought he had been loosening up as the evening progressed.

“Fine. That one.” Sougo lifted the cup to reveal the coin.

“Congratulations,” he said, raising his glass to Hijikata before downing it. “Your turn, Danna.” Sougo passed the coin to Gintoki, and they played a few more rounds, chatting casually. Once he had surrendered, Hijikata found himself playing along happily. It was such a relief to be able to interact normally with Gintoki, even if the interaction was mediated by a stupid drinking game. He had a nagging feeling he should be more mindful of Sougo who was quieter than usual, no doubt observing them and filing away any and all information he could extract...

“Your turn, Mayora,” said Gintoki.

“That one.”

“Ha! You lose!” cried Gintoki, energetically lifting the glass... and revealing the coin. “Oh...” he said, looking down at the coin, disappointed. Hijikata laughed. Gintoki looked up at him and laughed too. Sougo watched them and smirked.

“Hijikata wins,” he said, raising his glass.

“To Toshi,” agreed Gintoki, raising his glass to Sougo's.

“Who're you calling Toshi?” asked Hijikata, putting on an annoyed tone, but unable to hide his smile.

“You two sure are friendly tonight,” remarked Sougo, adopting as innocent a tone as he could.

“You sure did a number on my jaw the other day, though,” said Gintoki to Hijikata, before bringing his cup to his lips.

“What, you want me to kiss it better?” teased Hijikata. Gintoki choked on his sake and began coughing and spitting profusely. Hijikata could feel his face flush in embarrassment. Why the fuck had he said that?

“I think it would be awkward for everyone involved if one of your subordinates had to arrest you on sexual harassment charges, Hijikata-san,” drawled Sougo, drawing out the honorific.

Hijikata let his head drop onto the table in despair, covering his head with his arms.

“Oi, Hijikata, it's fine, don't worry about it,” said Gintoki. He extended his hand to pat Hijikata's arm reassuringly, causing Hijikata to flinch away. Somewhat disappointed, Gintoki drew back his hand. Hijikata lifted his head, regret clear on his face as he bit the inside of his cheek. Gintoki stared back uncertain and they stayed painfully stuck in suspension.

Sougo's eyes brimmed with glee as he watched the two fools.

Gintoki finally broke the spell, grabbing a nearby bottle. “Whatever. I bet I can outdrink you.” Hijikata smiled, relieved, and held out his glass. Competitively drinking themselves into a stupor was brutish and dumb, but at least it was a familiar path. After a few drinks, it also held the added benefit of making Sougo lose interest in them. Bored, he got up and left to bother other colleagues.

“Give it up, Hijikata, you know I can outdrink you.”

“You wish!” They downed their drinks.

“I was drinking sake before you were even weaned off of your mother's teat.”

“You'll be begging for your dumb strawberry milk when I'm done wiping the floor with you.” They downed their drinks again. Hijikata sighed.

“You're the biggest idiot I've ever met,” said Hijikata with no real malice.

“I know,” replied Gintoki, smiling widely. Hijikata felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards and far out of his control. This was getting dangerous. Yet, with Gintoki looking at him like that, no matter what the more rational parts of his mind warned against, there was no way he could back out of the challenge. And with each drink, the warnings fell back further and further within the recesses of his mind, barely audible at all.

“Only an idiot would down this next drink,” said Hijikata, filling Gintoki's cup anew.

“And only an idiot would drink to that,” replied Gintoki, raising his glass to Hijikata. Hijikata filled his own and they clinked their glasses together before each downing their sake. Hijikata was relieved that he was able to actually talk to Gintoki without completely losing his mind. He had feared he would never be able to have a normal interaction with him again. Of course, Hijikata was ignoring the roaring, racing undercurrent of affection building in strength and threatening to drown him entirely. He was keeping it at bay, but he knew his dams wouldn't hold forever.

Slowly, the room began to feel less crowded as more and more officers left to return to the barracks. Even if they were drinking with the vice-commander, they knew he wouldn't accept fatigue or hangovers as excuses to deliver anything less than a perfect performance during their early morning training session the next day.

Gintoki and Hijikata had moved onto an asinine card game that served as little more than a pretext to drink stupidly. Hijikata fiddled with the cards as he waited for Gintoki to return from the bathroom. The edges tickled the skin of his thumb as he flicked through the pile. He was close to giggling like a simpleton over the sensation. His own edges had been dulled down to soft tingling static. Drinking with Gintoki had had him overshoot his search for a numbing effect by a mile. Or maybe even light years, he thought to himself. Or whatever it was they used for those big distances in space. He couldn't remember. Space miles? He frowned. He certainly wasn't at the height of his intellectual capabilities this evening.

“Oi, not trying to cheat are you?” asked Gintoki, taking the cards from him. He sat down next to Hijikata rather than walking around the long table to reclaim his original seat.

“No,” protested Hijikata, offended. “As if I would need to cheat to beat you.” Gintoki smirked.

“Red or black, Mayora?”

“Red.”

“Ha, black! You drink!” Hijikata grumbled as he drew the sake to his lips. He drank quickly and smacked his cup back down.

“I know you cheated, you permy bastard.”

“Me? Cheat? I should hope you know me better!”

“I can't prove it,” said Hijikata, somewhat slurring his words, “But I know you did it.” He sloppily wagged his finger in front of Gintoki's face. Gintoki grabbed onto the finger, sending an electric shock through Hijikata's body. His eyes snapped up to focus on Gintoki's.

“What a shame you can't prove it, huh?” said Gintoki, in a low, whispered voice. He gave his finger a little squeeze before letting it go. Hijikata felt his breath catch in his throat. This was no time to be a coward. He put his hand over Gintoki's, causing his Gintoki's eyebrows to raise in surprise. Hijikata smirked and slid the cards out from Gintoki's hand. He tried to ignore the burning in his palm that he felt from the skin-on-skin contact.

“Call the suit and I'll let you off the hook,” he offered smugly. Gintoki laughed.

“If I get it right, you have to drink double,” he raised.

“Suits me,” said Hijikata, his gaze locked on Gintoki's. Gintoki's breathing quickened. His eyes flicked down to Hijikata's lips. It took all his willpower, but Hijikata stayed firm, holding the cards, one hand ready to reveal the card on top.

Gintoki took a deep breath. “Hearts,” he breathed out. Hijikata chuckled, knowing the odds were largely in his favour. He took the card and turned it over on the table.

“Hearts??”

“Ha, Gin-san wins again!” cried Gintoki, raising his arms in the air.

“What the-” Hijikata couldn't believe it. Damn this fool and his extraordinary luck!

“Time to drink up, Hijikata-kun~” said Gintoki, holding out his own cup to serve as the second drink in Hijikata's double or nothing.

Hijikata took the cup and locked eyes with Gintoki before turning it a hundred and eighty degrees. He brought the cup to his face and lined up his lips exactly with where Gintoki's had been, never breaking eye contact. Gintoki gulped. Hijikata lowered his lips to the cup, eyes looking up at Gintoki as he tilted his head down.

Gintoki's cheeks turned pink. Somewhere inside him a small drop fell into a dark pool. The concentric circles created by its fall washed through his body in a rush, awakening a deep feeling he had been pushing away for days.

“Oi... Hijikata... Hurry up and drink already,” he whined, hiding his face in his hand as he hunched over the table, leaning on his elbow, turning away from Hijikata.

Hijikata felt like he could burst out laughing from the elation he felt. He did his best to hold back and drank the sake from Gintoki's cup and then from his own in quick succession.

He felt his body shudder as he took the second drink; he really hadn't gotten this drunk in a long time. He couldn't give more than a passing thought to such things as biological limitations, however. Gintoki held his full attention.

“You're such a god damned lucky bastard, you know that?” he told him. Gintoki turned back to him and raised an eyebrow.

“So I've been told.”

“Like _really_ lucky,” insisted Hijikata, clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol.

“Not lucky enough to have naturally straight hair,” joked Gintoki. Hijikata chuckled.

“I thought it was supposed to be part of your charm as a protagonist?”

“Yeah... It gets kind of annoying though,” Gintoki admitted, rubbing at the back of his head. As his hand rubbed up and down against his scalp, small curls began to bounce and spring back into place. Hijikata stared, openly fascinated. His usual guard fallen far from his mind.

“Oi, Mayora....” said Gintoki, aiming at a light-hearted jab, but laughing awkwardly, “What're you looking at?” Hijikata barely heard him, under the spell of a curl above Gintoki's left ear. He was staring so intensely, he barely noticed himself reaching out. Seeing Hijikata's hand approach, Gintoki held his breath. Hijikata came to lightly hold the end of the up-tilted strand between his forefinger and thumb. He gently pulled the strand outwards, bringing it to its full length, his jaw slackening slightly as he studied at it. Gintoki felt his heart pounding in his ears. Hijikata let go of the curl. It bounced back into place. He laughed. Gintoki watched in amazement as the grouchy, belligerent vice-commander's features became almost child-like, inhabited by the joy of a sincere, youthful laugh that rang through the room with a pure bell-like clarity.

Hijikata's laughter dissipated and his eyes snapped back to Gintoki. He reached out to repeat the experiment, his growing excitement plain to see on his face.

Gintoki, aware of the gazes that had turned to them at the sound of Hijikata's laughter, intercepted Hijikata's hand with his own, bringing it down to Hijikata's lap.

“Oi,” he warned kindly, “I don't go around pulling on your V-shaped bangs, do I?” Hijikata didn't hesitate for even a second.

“You can,” he offered, leaning his head forwards.

The open willingness hardly left Gintoki indifferent. He ground his teeth to hold back the rush it caused within him. He was still holding Hijikata's hand. Their hands were still in Hijikata's lap. Hijikata had bowed his head to him and was looking up at him expectantly. No past temptation could ever have prepared Gintoki for this situation. He wanted nothing more than to plunge head-first into the chasm opening up before him. He had to hold back though. The timing was all wrong. He let go of Hijikata's hand.

“Oi, Hijikata-kun,” he said, attempting a light-hearted tone once more. He grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back up. “You're not drunk enough to be falling over just yet, are you? Ha. Haha...” He trailed off awkwardly.

No hint of stubbornness in his body, Hijikata allowed Gintoki to manoeuvre him. He stared at Gintoki thoughtfully. Gintoki stayed suspended, hands still on his shoulders unable to look away from Hijikata's expression.

“You're a really good protagonist, you know?”

The room suddenly felt far too hot to Gintoki.

“Wha- I- I-” Gintoki stuttered, finding himself speechless.

“You are,” Hijikata insisted, taking on a serious expression. He said sincerely, plainly, “If it were up to me, you'd be top of every Jump poll.”

The rising heat became the bursting of a sun. Gintoki felt himself imploding a thousand times over. He let go of Hijikata's shoulders and angled his body away, coming back to face the table, looking away. _Fleeing,_ if he were to be frank with himself.

He felt a small weight on his shoulder. Hijikata, hunched over, was resting his forehead on his shoulder. Gintoki stared helplessly, unable to process the situation.

“... just for a while...” mumbled Hijikata from his shoulder.

Gintoki wanted to wrap his arms around him, pull him closer and bury his nose in his hair. Instead, he patted him awkwardly on the back and tried to push him back up into a sitting position. He watched, enchanted, as Hijikata crinkled his nose – a stray strand of hair tickling it.

Looking at Hijikata's dishevelled state and intrigued, open expression, it took all Gintoki had not to lean in and –

“Toshi! You look like you've had a little too much!” Kondo appeared behind them in nothing but his underwear.

“Kondo-san?” Hijikata blinked, confused. He looked around at his surroundings for the first time since Gintoki had sat back down. Nearly everyone had left, including Sougo. A small group, including Hasegawa, remained. They were sitting in a circle on the other side of the room. For whatever reason, they were all in their underwear.

“Ah! Toshi! I haven't seen that funny drunk face of yours in so long!” said Kondo, laughing loudly as he slapped his hand down on Hijikata's shoulder. Hijikata, looking dazed, simply mumbled incoherently.

“He hasn't been giving you any trouble, has he?” Kondo asked Gintoki.

“Eh? Uh, no. None at all.”

“He's usually not too far from passing out once he gets like this,” admitted Kondo, looking at Hijikata with some concern. “Maybe I should take him back to the barracks...”

He looked back wistfully at the group of near-naked men laughing uproariously for whom the night still seemed young.

“I'll walk him home,” offered Gintoki.

“Really? Are you sure?” Kondo looked a little troubled, but more than ready to take him up on the offer.

“Of course. I'm Yorozuya Gin-chan, that's what I'm for.”

“You're sure? I don't want to trouble you...”

“It's no trouble at all,” insisted Gintoki, “You guys have been excellent hosts, I'm only repaying you.” Kondo still didn't seem convinced. Gintoki continued, “Besides, I'll be leaving that Madao in your care. So it's a fair trade, right?” Kondo turned back to see Hasegawa happily enjoying himself with the group.

“All right, fine,” he agreed. “I'll leave Toshi in your hands. Thank you, Gintoki.”

“Anytime,” said Gintoki, waving him off as Kondo bounced back over to the crazy group. Gintoki certainly didn't want to be the one to clear up whatever mess _that_ group got into.

During their exchange, Hijikata had slumped forwards onto the table. He rolled over slightly, still spread on the table, but looking up at Gintoki, smiling happily.

“What a gorilla, eh?” he chuckled.

Gintoki turned to see Kondo's hairy back as he did push-ups to the jeers of Hasegawa and the other men. He turned back to Hijikata, shaking his head.

“He's your boss.”

“Oi, don't insult our gori-boss,” reprimanded Hijikata, vexed but still slumped over.

“You're the one insulting him right now!” Hijikata groaned and rolled back over so his face was pressed against the table. “Oi, don't run away from my logical arguments like that!” Gintoki grabbed him by the shoulders to lift him up, once more finding Hijikata unusually pliable in his hands. He managed to get Hijikata back to sitting in an upright position.

“I'm taking you home,” he told him. Hijikata smirked. “No, not like that!” Hijikata laughed at him. “Never mind, just come on, you stupid drunk Mayora.” Gintoki grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up. He collected Hijikata's jacket and ushered him out of the door and down the hall.

“Thank you for your patronage!” called out the owner as they passed him.

“Yes, yes, thank you, thank you,” said Gintoki, brushing him off as he tried to get Hijikata to their shoes. Hijikata was getting distracted by _everything_. Every painting, every moth, every speck of dust – he would stop walking and stare curiously. Gintoki kept pushing him in the back to get him to _just_ _get a fucking move on._

After some trial and error, Gintoki found Hijikata's shoes. He had left him sitting on the floor, staring at his socks.

“Oi, put them on,” said Gintoki after dropping them at Hijikata's feet. Hijikata stared at him. “I don't care how drunk you are,” said Gintoki, “I am not putting your shoes on for you.” Hijikata stared at him and wiggled his toes. “OK, fine,” conceded Gintoki. He was grumbling to himself as he crouched down at Hijikata's feet and therefore missed the smile forming on Hijikata's face. He finished tying the laces of Hijikata's work boots and slapped him on the calf.

“There, all done,” he said, standing up. He extended his hand to Hijikata to help him up. Hijikata looked from Gintoki's hand to his face, a question clearly present. Gintoki almost snatched his hand back but held firm. His breath caught when Hijikata took it, nonetheless. He pulled Hijikata up and barely stepped back, causing them to stand very close together. Gintoki looked at Hijikata, taking in his flushed face, messy hair, crumpled shirt... How the hell had he gotten himself into such a state?

“Um, your jacket,” Gintoki supplied awkwardly, holding it up between them. Hijikata took it without comment and stepped back to slip it on. Gintoki kicked himself. What the hell did he think he was doing here? He was just walking a drunk idiot home. That was all. That was definitely something he would do for anybody, right? For his... friend? His drinking buddy? He remembered the thousands of times he had left Madao, completely intoxicated, out in the rain. Or the time he had been so irritated by Katsura's drunken ramblings that he had left him outside of the Shinsengumi barracks with a note stuck to his forehead (apparently Katsura had then wandered off, avoiding capture). His conscious helpfully supplied images of a time not too long ago when he had left Hijikata passed out on the counter of an oden bar and walked away laughing after helping himself to his wallet to pay off his own tab.

Hijikata cleared his throat. “Let's go,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Right,” agreed Gintoki, shaking away the memories.

As they stepped out into the night, Hijikata began fumbling though the inner pocket of his jacket, looking for cigarettes.

“Want one?” he offered, holding out the pack.

“I'm fine, thanks.” Gintoki couldn't help but notice it was the first time Hijikata had offered. Hijikata stopped walking as he struggled with his lighter.

“Damn thing... won't light....” he grumbled as his thumb repeatedly hit the spark wheel whilst missing the lever.

“Here, let me,” offered Gintoki, reaching for the lighter, taking it from Hijikata's hands. He still felt awe at the way Hijikata _just fucking_ _let him_ and waited expectantly. Gintoki easily lit a flame. Hijikata leaned in as Gintoki extended his hand. Gintoki held him back with a hand on his shoulder.

“Oi, I'm the one lighting it, I'm supposed to be the one to come to you,” he said with a smile. Hijikata chuckled.

“Go on, then, light me up.” Gintoki almost dropped the lighter from the way Hijikata was looking at him – up through his eyelashes, easy smirk spread across his face, daring him, inviting him, pushing him...

Hijikata had to hold in his laughter as he breathed in to light his cigarette on the flame Gintoki was holding for him. Once it was lit, he breathed out with a satisfied chuckle. He had Gintoki falling over himself right now and the elation it caused was intoxicating.

“You don't have to walk me home,” he told Gintoki, “I'd be fine by myself.” Gintoki abruptly grabbed him by the back of the collar. “Eh?”

“Hijikata, that's a telephone pole in front of you.” Hijikata looked and saw that he was indeed a few short inches away from walking head first into a telephone pole.

“Tch.” He redirected his route and resumed walking. Angrily puffing on his cigarette.

“Oi, a 'thank you' would be nice!” said Gintoki, jogging up behind him. Hijikata, still walking, turned his head to the other side as Gintoki came up beside him.

“Hey, don't let your pride get in the way, here.” Hijikata only grumbled in return.

“Look, I'm walking back with you because I want to.” Hijikata turned to look at him, curious. “I mean that I've enjoyed the time we've spent together tonight...” admitted Gintoki, suddenly growing awkward again, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Oh, yeah?” asked Hijikata, his features becoming less guarded once more as he toyed with his cigarette. “What did you enjoy so much exactly?” Gintoki's eyebrows raised slightly in panic.

“I– … just– …you...” he eventually managed to say.

“Me?” asked Hijikata, amused. He did his best to keep a cool expression, but inside could feel his heart racing at a maddening pace. Blood rushed through his ears and his breaths had significantly shallowed.

“Yes, you. I guess,” said Gintoki, staring at some indeterminate point further down the street, far off in the darkness. They had stopped walking and stood facing each other in the middle of the street. They were in a darker spot where the lights of the two closest street lights didn't quite line up, not quite in the shine of one nor the other. Hijikata could still see Gintoki's face clearly enough to see some hesitancy in his features. He felt a rush of emotion swell up in his chest. Looking at Gintoki, he couldn't help but feel disoriented, his emotions twisting, swirling, churning... something was going to rush to the surface and he wouldn't be able to hold it back.

“Hijikata...” Gintoki began. Hijikata's head was swimming, he could barely focus. He had dropped his cigarette and hadn't noticed. The intensity of the situation drove home just how much he had drunk, he felt in no way equipped to handle what Gintoki was throwing his way.

“Yo-Yorozuya, I...” Hijikata didn't know what to say. He stared straight into Gintoki's eyes and reached out his hand towards him. He saw Gintoki's eyes widen in response and the reaction provoked such excitement in him that he felt the bubbling sensation rise even higher, constricting his chest. He completed the movement enthusiastically, more quickly, chasing Gintoki's reaction. He held onto Gintoki's upper arm, dizzy from just the contact, even through Gintoki's clothes.

Gintoki brought up his hand against Hijikata's face, brushing his cheek. Hijikata watched Gintoki's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously. He ran his hand though Hijikata's hair, pushing it behind his ears.

“It's not fair that you have such perfect hair,” he commented, giving a humorous lilt to his voice, but in his nervousness, his eyes darted back to Hijikata, checking his expression. Hijikata let go of the breath he had begun holding when he felt Gintoki's hand tickle the tip of his ear. He choked on it slightly, feeling the tightness of his airway. Gintoki let his hand drop to Hijikata's shoulder.

“I –” Hijikata tried to say something. Why was he still stuck? All he wanted was to burst through whatever hurdles were holding them back and just fall, fall forever. Gintoki's eyes searched his face, trying to see into him, trying to know how he felt. Hijikata couldn't miss the way they always flicked back to his lips. Every time that they did, he felt an elated dizziness take him over. Gintoki's hand squeezed his shoulder.

“Hijikata...” Gintoki whispered his name uncertainly, watching him attentively. One hand still on Gintoki's arm, Hijikata brought his other hand up to Gintoki's chest, placing his palm down confidently. He suddenly felt Gintoki's other hand at his waist, pulling him in. The hand on his shoulder moved down his back, gripping him strongly.

“Shit. Fuck. Hijikata...” Gintoki ground out the final vowel of his name though gritted teeth and pulled him in closer. Hijikata's heart rate was out of control. He moved his hand to wrap his arm around Gintoki too. Eyes wide open, he held onto Gintoki, their cheeks brushing, wavy strands of silver hair tickling Hijikata's face. Hijikata felt Gintoki breathe out and they pulled away. Gintoki kept his hands on Hijikata, staring at him fixedly, suspended in the moment. Hijikata felt the butterflies building up. All he could see was Gintoki, all he could feel was the mad rush desperate to break through the surface and change everything forever. His entire body was tingling in anticipation, this could be the only way forward. He knew what he had to do.

He grabbed Gintoki by the collar and leaned into his space. He saw Gintoki's eyes widen and his lips part, but, again, it only encouraged him, the heat rising within him.

He leaned in closer –

…

He vomited onto Gintoki's shoes.

Hunched over, he coughed and vomited again, only barely managing to aim anywhere other than the shoes. He became aware of Gintoki rubbing his back and making soothing sounds and was absolutely mortified.

“Just... jut leave me in the gutter to rot...” he pleaded once the vomiting had passed.

“Out of the question,” said Gintoki, taking his arm and draping it over his shoulders. Self-conscious after having vomited, Hijikata tried to break away, but Gintoki held firm.

“Come on, I said I would walk you home,” Gintoki told him.

Hijikata gave in, feeling too exhausted and embarrassed to put up much of a fight.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized, shame evident in his voice. Gintoki chuckled good-naturedly.

“You've gutted an enemy in front of me, splashing me with blood and intestines and this is what you apologise for?”

“... Fair point,” Hijikata conceded. “Oi, do you mind if I light another cigarette?” Gintoki sighed and released his arm.

Hijikata took out his pack and offered a cigarette to Gintoki once more. Gintoki shook his head. “I don't like smoking and walking,” he explained.

Hijikata nodded, somewhat understanding, and took one out for himself. Gintoki snatched his lighter out of his hands.

“But I just threw up,” protested Hijikata.

“Don't care, I'm lighting it for you.”

“But it's gross.” Gintoki ignored him and ignited the flame.

“Come on,” he prompted, pointing to his mouth, indicating that that was where Hijikata should put in his cigarette.

“Tch.” Hijikata clicked his tongue but did as Gintoki asked nonetheless. It was always too easy to get sucked into that idiot's pace. Gintoki leaned in to light his cigarette. Hijikata couldn't help but pull away as soon as possible, not wanting to linger too close to Gintoki too long.

Gintoki practically dragged him the rest of the way to the barracks, Hijikata stumbling along and smoking. Vomiting had largely sobered him out of his drunken playfulness, but it had also brought on a horrendous spinning headache. He was under no illusion that without Gintoki there he would be fumbling around like a fool unable to think straight, let alone walk straight.

They rounded the corner to the barracks, Hijikata leaned into Gintoki shoulder, relieved at arriving home, but unready for the sudden wave of exhaustion that also hit him with the relief. Gintoki rubbed his back reassuringly.

“Come on, nearly there.”

They slipped through the gates and began to cross the courtyard where Sougo, prowling through the night, spotted them.

“Danna!” he greeted, “What sinkhole did you drag that drowned dog out from?”

Hijikata flicked his cigarette butt at Sougo's face, missing by a wide breadth.

“Shaddup,” he retorted.

“My, my, ever the overwhelming wit, I see.”

“Eh, I told your gori-boss I would see him back,” said Gintoki, “It's, uh, a job.”

“A job,” repeated Sougo in monotone, eyes clearly mocking him.

“Right...” acquiesced Gintoki awkwardly, readjusting Hijikata's arm across his shoulder. Hijikata was unhelpfully glowering at Sougo whilst having to regularly blink his eyes to remain awake.

“Who puked on your shoes, Danna?”

“Uh...”

“Was it Hijikata-san? What a messy drunkard... clearly unfit for the role of vice-commander.”

“Yeah... so how about you point me to your bathrooms so I can clean this up?”

“It'll take a lot more work than that to clean up that big of a stain,” said Sougo pointing at Hijikata. Gintoki rolled his eyes.

“Helpful as ever, Souichiro-kun,” he commented as he nudged Hijikata and set off again.

“It's Sougo.” Gintoki ignored him.

“So bathrooms?” he asked Hijikata. Hijikata nodded vaguely to the right and Gintoki dragged them in that direction, happy to leave his puke-shoes at the entrance.

“Toothbrush?” asked Gintoki once they had made it to the bathrooms.

“Huh?”

“Come on, Gin-san already has a kid at home he has to bully into doing this properly.”

Hijikata shuffled over to his bag of toiletries and grabbed his toothpaste and toothbrush. Leaning on Gintoki for stability, he looked irritated as he brushed.

“I promise it'll make you feel better,” said Gintoki, running his hands through Hijikata's hair. Once Hijikata had finished brushing his teeth, Gintoki tugged at his jacket.

“What?”

“Just take it off.” Gintoki set Hijikata's jacket aside and grabbed his hand.

“Oi!”

“Shh, don't worry, I'm just rolling up your sleeves.” Gintoki gently rolled the fabric over. Hijikata was significantly less tense as Gintoki took care of the second sleeve, though he was fighting with all he had not to lean into the touch.

“Thanks,” he breathed as Gintoki stepped back. Gintoki turned on the hot water tap.

“Come on, let's wash you face.”

Save a few hospital stays, Hijikata couldn't think of sharing such basic hygiene activities with anyone but his mother over twenty years ago...

“Oi, Hijikata?” said Gintoki, waving his hand in front of his face. “Just this, then I promise you can go to bed afterwards.”

Hijikata leaned over the sink, splashing warm water over his face. He grabbed a bar of soap, lathered his hands and tried to rub off all of the grime and shame he felt. Once more, he felt Gintoki gently rubbing his back.

Relieved to be done with washing, he felt another wave of sleepiness overcome him, much deeper this time.

“Hey, don't sleep here,” said Gintoki, moving forward to prop him up. Rather than using the contact to stabilize himself, Hijikata leaned into it. He let his weight fall onto Gintoki and sleep take him over.

“Oi, you're heavy!” complained Gintoki. Hijikata only mumbled incoherently and nuzzled into his chest.

“Ah, shit.” Gintoki crouched down and lifted Hijikata into a fireman's carry, tossing him over his shoulder. He heard happy sleepy mumblings from behind his back.

“Honestly, this guy is such a pain,” he grumbled, stepping out into the hallway.

  
  


“So just how much is Kondo-san paying you to go the extra mile?” asked Sougo, sneaking out from the shadows.

“Get out of here, you brat!” cried Gintoki, angry from the surprise attack and from having nearly dropped Hijikata.

“Touchy, aren't we?”

“Just tell me which room is his.” Sougo raised an eyebrow.

“You've been there before, haven't you?”

“I have. Gin-san just has other, more important things to remember.”

“Really? That looks like it's pretty important to you,” commented Sougo, nodding towards Hijikata's sleeping body.

“Yeah, well, that's... That's just... different,” Gintoki tried to justify. Sougo scoffed.

“You're really going to have to work on your excuses, Danna.” He began walking away.

“Oi!”

“Third room on the left,” said Sougo, pointing down the hallway before disappearing again.

To Gintoki's relief, he _did_ recognize the third room on the left as Hijikata's after opening the door. He set Hijikata down delicately and went to drag out his futon. He suddenly stopped in front of the cupboard, the futon in his hands. Why the hell was he doing all of this? He could easily have left Hijikata at the gates, _maybe_ propping him up against a wall there. Or left him with Sougo when they first saw him. Why help him brush his teeth? Why help him wash his face? Why lay out his futon for him and practically want to tuck him in and wish him good night? This was stupid. He let go of the futon. He was going home.

He turned and saw Hijikata sleeping where he had propped him up against the wall and his heart clenched. Fuck. Of course he was laying out that futon.

He picked it up again and spread it out on the floor. He then crouched down in front of Hijikata and removed his vest. The scarf was long gone, so he began unbuttoning his shirt. He worked methodically, button by button, trying to retain the pure functionality of the act. He had barely reached the sternum when he felt his mouth go dry. Fuck, that was a hell of a reason to stay.

He shook his head. No, that wasn't what this was about. He kept unbuttoning, revealing Hijikata's stomach, and slipped his arms out of the shirt. Across his chest he could see scars that mirrored his own – not as deep, but eclectic and spread out all over.

He loosened Hijikata's belt and undid his uniform trousers. He lifted Hijikata slightly and slipped them off his legs, looking down as little as possible. He didn't trust himself.

Seeing the demonic vice-commander asleep against the wall in nothing but his boxers and socks, Gintoki couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. Now to get Hijikata over to the futon... Gintoki supposed he could roll him, but somehow he thought Hijikata had probably already endured enough. Besides, he didn't want to risk getting his stomach churning again...

He would have to carry him again. Gintoki approached him, ready to toss him over his shoulder again, when he took note of the bend in his knees and his outstretched arm. He took the arm, draping it over his shoulders once more, and hooked his arm beneath the knees. First kneeling on one knee, he lifted Hijikata up. As a dead weight he was heavy, but Gintoki managed to carry him over to the futon, kneeling again and setting him down. Still asleep, Hijikata reached out to grab for him as he pulled away. Gintoki easily dodged the sleepy pawing but found he regretted it. He knelt down by the futon, sitting on his heels and staring down at Hijikata. What the fuck was he doing here? He wondered once more.

He had done everything except read Hijikata a god damned bedtime story, when in the past he wouldn't even have given a second thought to leaving him behind.

“When did things change?” he muttered, stroking his hand across Hijikata's cheek. Hijikata turned his face into his touch and sighed in his sleep. Gintoki felt an insane rush of affection crash through him. He couldn't pinpoint when something had changed, but he would be a fool to think it hadn't.

“What the hell have you done to me?” he asked in a whisper. It would be easier not to care this much. He would have been home by now. Or out, still drinking. He slowly took back his hand, careful not to be too abrupt and disturb Hijikata's sleep. He lay down on the floor next to the futon, propping himself up on his side and watching Hijikata's slow, steady breaths.

“You're a mayo freak,” he told him. No reaction, of course.

“You smoke all the time.” No sound but the steady breathing and the silence of the middle of the night.

“You threw up on my shoes.” Still nothing. Gintoki sighed and let his head drop down to the floor. Staring at Hijikata's profile from his level.

“I didn't think I had any room to care about someone like this, but somehow you've just made my world a little bit bigger.” The slow pace of Hijikata's soft breathing continued undeterred by Gintoki's confession.

Gintoki pouted and watched him breathe. He could stare at him all he liked, he wouldn't know what was going on inside his head. He watched Hijikata's eyelashes flutter on an exhale. He watched his eyebrows tighten momentarily as something seemed to bother him. It was only in passing, though, and Gintoki watched as his features were quickly smoothed out again.

He looked different when he slept, Gintoki couldn't help but think. Things didn't seem to matter so much. Everything mattered to Hijikata. Even if he decided something wasn't his problem, he could still let himself be annoyed by it. Gintoki knew he had often been in that category. Seeing his face without a trace of worry was unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

“Do you ever look like this when you're awake?” he wondered out loud. Hijikata stirred. Gintoki worried that he had spoken too loudly. He watched silently for a moment longer as Hijikata settled himself. What would it take to make him look like that when he was awake? No frown lines, no tightness in the jaw, eyes open and trusting... Gintoki felt himself stiffen as he realized that he wanted to be the one to make it happen. He wanted to be the one to see such a face when Hijikata was awake.

“You've broken me completely, you bastard,” he complained, turning over onto his back and rubbing his hand down over his face. Gintoki lied back and stared at the ceiling, not fully making it out in the soft light of the small lamp that shone from the other side of the room. Memories of the evening bounced around as he tried to make sense of them. Seeing Hijikata's throat bob as he downed another drink, watching a small drop of sake caught on the stubble above his lip, wanting to reach out and wipe it off... He turned his head to look at Hijikata again. How dare he be asleep at such a crucial time as this? He wanted to reach out and touch him, but couldn't bring himself to do so. His body felt pinned to the ground, all the weight of his indecision and uncertainty holding him down.

Gintoki pinched the top of nose, pressing into his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on. It was time to go home. Alone.

He sat up, looking at Hijikata again. He still couldn't help but be drawn in. That peaceful sleeping face... Gintoki smiled. He couldn't say for sure what was going on, but he was happy that it was.

He stood up and went to turn off the lamp. He carefully walked over to the door in the dark. Sliding it open, he rested one hand on the door frame and turned back to look at Hijikata's silhouette. His sleeping body hadn't moved an inch. He was still breathing quietly, the rise and fall of his chest like something Gintoki could count on. Satisfied, Gintoki turned to leave.

Staring at him any longer wouldn't tell him much about what Hijikata was thinking, but Gintoki now knew where he stood.


End file.
